Today, I heard a sentence that stayed with me all day:
“We made no mistakes.”
Such a familiar denial, such a familiar escape.

I’m surrounded by people who refuse to accept their faults—people who, even when guilty, will never admit it. In fact, they go as far as to blame the innocent.
And I’m forced to live among them.
Even though it deeply unsettles me, there’s nothing I can do to change it.

No matter how much I want my life to change, I know I don’t have the conditions or the means to make it happen. And this awareness burns inside me.
Sometimes, I feel physical pain in my chest—like a heart attack.
Maybe it’s not my heart failing, but it is definitely breaking.
This stress, this sadness—it’s pulling me toward a cliff edge.
And like every human, I have my limits. I get angry. I shut down. I just want to sleep.

Because living in dependency on people you don’t even like—
That’s the closest thing to hell on Earth.

I have access to none of the things I should rightfully have. Even for my most basic needs, I have to rely on others for “help.” But this so-called help creates a kind of dependency that strips you of your dignity.
When you try to remain proud, you get crushed.
When you stay silent to avoid being crushed, you lose yourself.

Sometimes I just want to sleep.
Because in sleep, there are no people.
No one judging, blaming, or controlling me.
And maybe, in those few hours of darkness,
I can finally feel a little bit free.